The Original Transition
by anilkex
Summary: New Summary: My muse wanted Dean to let someone take care of him, rather than always being the one to care for others. Naturally, he gets sick and hurt, because that's how I roll. Replacement story in my AU for "The Transition" (hence the ridiculous title). Please read A/N for full explanation of its place in the verse. Rated T for language.


_**A/N:**_ _Okay, this is technically the first story in my AU ("You Are The Third Winchester"). I know - I'm writing out of order. I write the stories that pop in my head, and apparently they are all over the timeline. This story is the original "The Transition" Dean/Kate story I wrote. I didn't really like it at the time, so I rewrote it and posted a different one here. Eventually I came back to it and decided I DID like it afterall, so I cleaned it up and here it is. This story is a synonym story to The Transition - that is, swap one out for the other. They accomplish the same goal, and are set at the same time - right before Kate goes to Stanford to visit Sam in "Cut The Cord"._

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own nothing, I just play with other people's toys._

* * *

15 minutes. I have 15 minutes until the bus comes and it takes over a minute to get to the stop so...gah….14 minutes.

I was searching all over the motel room. It wasn't under the beds or in the kitchenette. I wasn't aware that I was muttering until Dean started talking.

"Hey..._heyyyyyyy_...whatcha doin'?"

I rolled my eyes and briefly turned to look at him. Dean was sprawled on his bed, sheets tangled all around his legs. His eyes were bloodshot and half closed, and his speech was slurred.

"I'm looking for my notebook - I need it for school today." I spoke in a harsh tone, but I was in a hurry.

Dean just blinked at me, trying to process my words. He was a little slow this morning.

We wrapped up our final hunt for this area last night, and to celebrate, Dad and Dean went to the local alcoholic establishment for a while. I left after half an hour, knowing I had a test the next day at school. Apparently, my entire future depended on it. Or at least high school graduation.

Dean did not leave after half an hour. In fact, he just came home half an hour _ago_. Completely trashed.

Dad hadn't made an appearance, so I'm guessing he found somewhere else to spend the night.

Dean stirred on the bed and watched me frantically search the room. I could hear him thinking, but I didn't have time to engage him in...well, anything. I needed that notebook and I needed to get to school.

"Um...so ya gonna call? Or...text or somethin'?"

"What? Yeah, of course - I'll call after school like always." I was looking in the cabinets and even under the sink.

There was more movement on the bed, and Dean was now curled into a ball, head hanging over the side. He was still watching me, only now with an odd expression on his face.

"You shure? You won' fergit?"

"Hmmm?"

I was getting more panicked and more irritated with the drunk conversation we were having. I was wishing he would just pass the fuck out and let me concentrate. I looked over to the window, and there it was - metal spirals winking at me from under the curtain.

"There you are!" I ran and grabbed the book, thrusting it into my backpack. I was doing a quick assessment of supplies - pencils, cell phone, notebook (!), novel...all there. Now I just need to -

"You won' fergit me...right?" His voice caught on the last word.

_Whoa... hold on…_.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him. He had a desperate look on his face.

"Dean…" I said carefully, "I'm just going to school. I'll be back this afternoon...ok?"

He blinked at me, trying to remember. Then he said, "I jus' don' want you to fergit me...when you're gone at college...so jus' call me...'kay? Jus'...call...or somethin'..."

_Oh, fuck me._

Sam's been at Stanford for about 2 months now. Dean still wasn't used to it. None of us were.

I needed to take this test today, or I couldn't graduate. Why they were giving it in the fall was beyond me, but whatever. I just had to take it and get the passing grade on my record. I gave my watch a quick glance before dropping my backpack with a huff and going to the bed. I had a few minutes to spare.

I sat down next to him, put my hand on his back and rubbed the spot between his shoulder blades. "Dude...I'm going to school - high school - and just today. We leave tomorrow...together...remember?"

My tone was patronizing - I knew that. Our relationship has been strained lately, and when I thought back on it, it started even before Sam left. At seventeen, I wasn't eager to be micromanaged by someone only six years older than me. Granted, someone needed to be paying attention to what was going on in my life, but I was starting to resent the overbearing control Dean exhibited.

Dad had always been thankful for Dean's ability to parent Sam and I. Sam told me that Once Upon A Time, Dad ordered Dean to take care of him, and from then on, Dean was simply in charge of him. When I came along, he just assumed responsibility for me as well.

Dad took charge for the big things, like hospitalizations, major punishments, and our training...although when Dean was old enough, he let Dean help with that as well. Dean parenting meant Dad could focus on hunting evil and tracking the Demon.

I'm not going to waste mental airtime whining about how my _brother_ is more of a dad than my _dad_. But I _will _whine about how Dean can take the parenting role too far, sometimes, because he _isn't _my dad.

Dean turned his head to look up at me. He blinked slowly, then belched. A wave of beer and … more beer hit me and I grimaced in disgust. "_Niiiiice_. Thank you for that. Can I please go now?"

"Uh…Katie…." He swallowed convulsively.

_Shit…._

I grabbed the trash can just in time.

After I _thought _he was done, I waited to make sure he was _really _done. He dropped his head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. Avoiding looking at the contents of the trash can, I cleaned it out and got a glass of cold water.

By the time I got back to the bed, Dean had rolled over and watched me warily.

"What?" I asked.

"Why're you still here? S'posed to be...leaving...me..."

Despite the flares of annoyance he elicited on a daily basis, I felt a wave of sympathy wash over me. Insecurity and just plain sadness were radiating from him like ripples in a pond.

_Goddammit._

Sighing, I grabbed my backpack, pulled out my novel and crawled into bed next to him. "I don't wanna go anymore, 'kay? I'm staying here with you."

Dean looked at me as if I were crazy. "...Why?"

Without hesitation, I kissed his forehead. _Because I love you, asshole._

"Hmph."

I unwrapped Dean's legs from between the sheets and blankets and rearranged them so we were both under the covers. I made him take a few sips of water and propped him up on pillows.

Drunk Dean 101: Get him cleaned up, get him comfortable, get him to pass out.

I scooted so I was on the pillow next to him. Opening my novel to the bookmark, I settled in for a long morning. I could sense him watching me, I could smell him breathing on me.

I really should have gotten him a mint before getting comfortable.

Replacing the bookmark, I turned to him.

"What's up, sugarplum?" I figured I was allowed to be a little punchy with the drunk guy.

"Yer here…."

"Yup."

"Not goin'..."

"Nope."

"Mmmm….'kay." He scooted closer and wrapped himself around me. He pinned my arm under everything Dean, his face was in my shoulder and his legs flung over mine. I think he was trying to physically make sure I stayed.

I leaned my head against his for a moment and closed my eyes. He snuggled even further against me.

Graduation was overrated anyway.

xxxxx

About an hour later, Dad stumbled through the door. He looked about as bad as Dean, but drunk Dad was a bit sharper than drunk Dean. He looked at me, in Dean's bed, with Dean now spread out on his front, one arm across my stomach.

"Good morning, sunshine. Late night?" I asked, smirking.

Dad snorted and tossed his keys on the table. He closed the door as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Why are you still here? Didn't you have something going on at school today?"

Seriously. If it's not a hunt, Dad has no clue what's going on.

Dean made a huge fuss about staying one more day so I could take that test, even though I wasn't going to be _here _when I graduated. He argued that since it was being offered _now_, we were _here_ now, so just _take_ it now and guarantee it's on my record.

He didn't beg dad to stay, he pretty much demanded. Dean rarely demands things of Dad, so when he does, Dad tends to perk up. I was ambivalent about it - I mean, yes, I wanted to graduate, and obviously I knew the importance of an education. Hello? Brother at Stanford.

Still. I also knew that with Sam gone, a lot of tension was gone, and Dad felt freer to just hunt in peace. A kid still in high school put a huge cramp in that, and I wasn't eager to be _that kid_. Sam put Dad and Dean through a lot during high school. Although I missed him something fierce, (sometimes, I still cry at night) I had to admit that the distinct lack of angst was refreshing.

So sure, I wanted that diploma, but I was ok getting my G.E.D. from the local school near Bobby's when we had some downtime. My grades were fine, and I wasn't worried about not being able to pass. I just didn't want to be the wrinkle in Dad's plans.

I'm not insecure at all.

"Nah...it wasn't a big deal."

Dad looked confused and was going to question me further, so I quickly added, "Gonna get some sleep for a bit? You look like shit." I smiled sweetly at him, "Albeit more..._relaxed…_" I waggled my eyebrows at him and laughed.

"Jesus….you're ...so not normal," he mumbled.

I laughed even harder at that. "Look who raised me. Did you really think I was going to end up normal?"

Dad grunted in agreement, and pulled off his shirt, revealing a host of scars and bruises in different stages of healing. He rotated his shoulder and groaned.

"Grab some sleep. I'll fix your shoulder when you wake up, ok?"

He nodded a thanks, yawning again, and flopped down on his bed.

By the time I returned to my book, he was snoring.

xxxxx

"Goddammit, Kate, get the fuck up! _Now_!"

_What the hell_…? I woke with a start as my book slid off the bed and thudded to the floor.

"What?!" I groped for a weapon, but only found an almost empty bottle of water.

Dad grumbled, "Dean! What's going on?"

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning. Realizing there wasn't an immediate threat, I relaxed a little. That is, until I spotted Dean, standing next to my bed. His eyes were shooting daggers at me, and he was holding my backpack high in the air.

"Um...you're really strong today?" That was the wrong thing to say, because his eyes narrowed even further and he tossed the bag to the floor.

"You missed school," he said in a clipped tone.

_Yeah…?_

_Ohhhhh….he doesn't remember…._

I opened my mouth to say something and then stopped. What was I going to say? If I told him I stayed home for him, it'd kill him. I quickly shot a glance at Dad, who was studying me closely. He knew damn well I didn't oversleep, but he also wasn't sure why I lied to him. He was waiting to see my next move.

_Fuck_.

I swallowed and said, "What time is it?" I was trying to buy some time to figure out what to do.

Cue the lecture...

"One o'clock, Kate. _One_. What the hell? You knew how important this was, that we stayed here for that test. You were back here early enough to get some sleep. What were you thinking?" Dean slammed his hand on the table.

I looked down at the blankets and swallowed.

_I think you're more important than any test in existence._

"I'm really sorry..."

Dad raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Dean pointed at me, "I know you don't really care if you graduate or not, but we do." He gestured at Dad and himself.

I managed to contain the eye roll that was threatening to happen, but Dad did not. Luckily, Dean didn't notice. He was too far into his rant. "You have to think about your future."

He stood straighter and ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe you."

At this point, I was starting to get a little defensive. I was taking one for the team, and he was going a little too far. "It's not like this is the end of the world, Dean. I can get my G.E.D. at that school near Bobby's or something…" I trailed off when his expression became even more dangerous.

I looked back at the blankets and pulled at a stray thread.

I could sense Dean shaking his head in disappointment. "I'm going to take a shower."

The bathroom door slammed shut, and I just sank back into the pillow.

Disappointed Dean was awful to deal with, as in, I'd rather face a nest of vamps _solo _than Disappointed Dean.

I suddenly missed Drunk Dean.

"So…."

Oh shit..._Dad_.

I sighed.

"Explain, please."

So I did.

Dad wasn't pissed about the test. It wasn't that he didn't think it wasn't important (even though he did the whole eye roll thing during Dean's speech), he just thought other things were currently _more_ important, and if the graduation issue could be solved another way (like a G.E.D. test), then what was the big deal?

He'll be more pissed that I lied to him.

He nodded, and ran his hand down his face. "Ok. Next time, don't fucking lie to me." _Ding_. "I'll talk to Dean and get it -"

I bolted up, "Nononononono….do _not_ do that."

Dad looked at me in surprise. "Kate, he's going to be a _bitch_ all day. He should know -"

I cut him off, "Dad, no, it'll kill him. Everything will be fine. I know he'll be awful, but it'll pass." I got out of bed and stretched, scooping my book up off the floor.

Dad sighed and watched me closely.

I sighed in return. "Seriously. It doesn't change our plans - we still leave tomorrow - new town, new hunt."

I was trying to remind Dad of the positives - no more needing to register me for school. He had his freedom. I could tell he liked what I said, so I knew I was in the clear.

I watched him….aaaaaaaand there it was - _that look_...the one where he saw possibilities and freedom to pursue his obsessions without worrying about extra annoyances. It was as close to happy as I'll probably ever see him...and I'm not fucking with that.

I dug out the tube of muscle cream and waved it at him. "So...shoulder?"

xxxxx

"What're you going to get?"

I was staring at the menu but I couldn't process the words or the pictures. I was too tired.

Dean had me run today...a lot. Then I had to clean out the Impala and spar with him at the park. He sparred dirty, today. Bastard. Next on the list was cleaning the weapons. I got about two-thirds finished when Dad declared a dinner break.

He and Dean had been researching our next case. Something in Northern Wisconsin; that's all I figured out. Dean wasn't talking to me, he was just barking orders. He figured that since I decided to take a long nap today, I could make up the wasted time.

Dad kept his word and said nothing, interjecting only when he thought Dean was going too far. Usually he's all for a rigorous training schedule, but today, he gave sympathetic looks and pats on the back when Dean wasn't watching.

"Kate?"

"Hmmm?"

"Dinner?"

Right...food. I was hungry, I just didn't know if I could lift the fork. I pointed to a picture on the menu and answered Dad with, "That...I'll have that." I'm pretty sure it was food.

Dad nodded and patted my leg, "Ok."

Dean said nothing. He was looking everywhere in the diner except at me. We were sitting in a booth, Dean on one side, Dad and I on the other.

I propped my head on my arm. I still stood by my choice to suck it up and take the heat for this whole fiasco. But it was starting to get old. It's only been a handful of hours since we all woke up, but it felt like forever.

Dean's never been this mad at me, even after the time I was in fourth grade and gave him a haircut while he slept. It wasn't the chores or the snippy tone...it was the distance. I couldn't reach him, and more importantly, he didn't want to be reached.

If he was trying to be hurtful, he was doing a spectacular job.

I could feel Dad's leg bouncing, signalling his discomfort with the tension. Normally, family drama surrounded him and Sam, so he wasn't tuned into the effect it had on those around him. Now, he was a bystander, and in completely unfamiliar territory.

After we ate, Dad engaged Dean in conversation about a new hunt while they nursed now-cold cups of coffee. Too tired to focus, I stared at black and white celebrity photos lining a wall of the diner. I heard something about old houses on a huge piece of property and maybe a tree was involved. Dad then went on to discuss the evening's plans.

"I'm going back to Casey's to fix his truck - he offered a decent amount of money to help him out, so I'm gonna take him up on it."

I continued to pick at my food, nodding occasionally.

Dad paused and added, "Dean - come with me and help. It'll go a lot faster if you're there. Kate, you can just get packed up."

I saw Dean bite his lower lip for a second before taking a quick drink of water. "Sure, I'll go with you. Meet you in the car." He put down his glass, rose from the table, and left.

I dropped my fork onto my plate with a clang and leaned back. Dad balled up his napkin and placed it in his empty plate. He scratched his head and turned to me.

"I think this has gone on long enough."

Rubbing the back of my neck, I gave Dad a look of resignation. "Just...leave it."

"Kate…"

"Dad, seriously, just leave it alone. It's fine."

Dad watched me carefully, then nodded slowly. "Okay…your choice. Let's get going."

As I pushed myself out of the booth, I realized he didn't agree to let it go, but he didn't push that he would handle it either.

I was thinking that over at the cashier's counter when my phone began to vibrate. I peeked at the caller ID - _Sam_.

"Oh fuck…" I said, knowing full well that Dean probably told him what happened this morning.

Without turning around, Dad said, "It's Sam, isn't it?"

I swallowed, "Yeah. Christ, I don't want his lecture either."

Dad finished paying and faced me, amusement all over his face. "That one's all yours."

"Haha...thanks. Go ahead and take off - I'll walk back."

"You sure?" He looked uncertain, but I knew he wanted to get started on the truck. I had a feeling Casey's sister was Dad's companion from the bar, so I'm guessing there was a chance of a repeat performance tonight.

"Yeah, it's only a few blocks. Go."

Dad nodded, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. "See you later."

As soon as he was gone, I answered the phone in a flat tone. "Yeah?"

I heard a huff, and then, "Hello to you too, I'm fine, thanks for asking, what the hell happened this morning?"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed the door open and stepped outside. The air was getting thick and clouds were rolling in. Thunderstorm - even better. "He called you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he called me. Fortunately for you, I call bullshit on you oversleeping. So what really happened?"

I crossed the street and started the walk back to the motel. I sighed into the phone. "It's not a big deal. He was having a lot of fun last night at some bar, and he didn't get home until, like, thirty minutes before I had to catch the bus. He was totally trashed."

"So...what are we talking here...he puked? Said sappy shit? Both?"

"Both. Only…" I sighed again. "Shit, Sam, the sappy shit this time was just...sad. He thought I was leaving him and going to college."

Sam let out a long breath as he thought over that one. He softly asked, "Is this ever going to get easier? It's only been 2 months."

"Hey - we've been literally stuck together for, what, 10 years. Of course this isn't going to get easier. He takes this shit personally - you know that." I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk and swore.

"What'd he do today? Lectures? Sulking? Or my personal favorite - silent treatment except for being an asshole?"

"Why Sam, it's like you've been through this before."

Another huff. "Kate, you gotta tell him what happened. He shouldn't be treating you like that. Make him stop."

"Sam. I'm not going to tell him. You know damn well what it'd do to him."

"It doesn't matter. He should know that you didn't just blow off something important for the hell of it. _I'd_ tell him."

"Really."

"Uh….yeah! Stand up for yourself, dammit."

I stopped on the sidewalk, kicking a few leaves out of my path. I looked up. The fall colors on the trees stood out against the darkening sky. "8th grade. Poltergeist. New Jersey."

Silence.

Then, "Shut up."

"Exaaaactly. We've both taken the heat from him to spare his feelings, and we'd do it again and again in a heartbeat." I resumed walking, and softened my tone. "I'm not going to hurt him, Sam. I just won't."

The motel was in sight now, and I quickened my pace, wanting to get inside and finish my chores.

I knew Sam was pacing. "Ok...I know...it's not that he even had to say anything. He's been, like, our dad, while Dad was just...not. So, I get it." I imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose, and he sighed yet again. "What are you going to do?"

I unlocked the door to our room and went inside, placing the keys on the table next to a pile of guns and knives. "There's nothing _to _do. I have a shitpile of weapons to finish cleaning, packing to do, then I'm going to bed."

"No, about school. What are you going to do about graduating?"

I shrugged, "Take the G.E.D. by Bobby's most likely. I'll get the piece of paper, Sam. It just may not be on everyone else's timeline." I took off my coat, sat down, and started to work on the nearest gun. "Look, with you gone, it's too complicated trying to find somewhere to hole up for a few months at a time just so _I_ can go to school. I'll be 18 soon, so I'm just gonna stop school _for now…" _I added the emphasis before he could yell at me, "...and deal with it when there's a little more time."

"So….giving Dad an early Christmas present?" Sam's tone was sharp, and I could feel the anger through the phone.

"Sam….c'mon…."

I always took the easy road when it came to my family. I know they love me and that I am firmly part of this unit even though I'm not Mary's daughter. But there is a tiny part of me that is afraid that maybe...someday...they won't want me around. It was irrational, and was completely unfounded, but it was there nonetheless. My only weapon against this potentially overwhelming anxiety was to be as frictionless as possible.

Sam preferred to follow his own principles, no matter what. He didn't have a fear of being left behind - there was no reason for it. Dean's world revolved around Sam - he would never be alone. He didn't have to be afraid.

"Ok...nevermind. I just...I want you out, Kate. You know that. School is..." He paused and then added, "I just wish you were here."

I smiled, tears welling in my eyes. "I miss you, too." I swallowed and rubbed my eyes. "Allright... don't you have studying to do or a sorority chick to pine over?"

Sam laughed, "Studying….big test tomorrow."

"Hey Sam...don't oversleep, okay?"

I listened for a minute and realized that Sam learned new phrases during his short time at Stanford.

We hung up, and I resumed my chores. I could have put on music or the TV for background noise, but I was appreciating the quiet after a day of being snapped at.

I thought about what Sam said, and for the millionth time, I was envious of his ability to just take stand up to Dad and Dean. Not that either of us would deliberately hurt Dean, and even though Sam would have taken the punishment, he would not have taken it quietly.

Like me. I'm always quiet, and I never make waves.

What can I say...I like it here.

Thunder boomed, making me jump and almost dropping the machete I was holding onto my lap. "Shit…"

I went to look out the window. It wasn't raining that hard - but it was steady and solid. I wondered if Dad was working in a garage or out in a driveway.

I hurried and finished with my chores, carefully packing the weapons. I glanced at my watch, and figured that they would be getting back soon.

Sure enough, a key fumbled in the lock, and Dean walked inside. He was completely soaked - water was dripping everywhere. After closing the door, he paused, arm poised near his face, and drove two sneezes into his wrist.

"Hey…" I said feebly. I wasn't sure what to say or whether I should even talk to him at all, but the greeting slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Dean wiped his face and glanced my way. He nodded his hello and took off his coat.

I tried again, "Wait, I'll get you a towel.."

Dean shook his head and said, "Nah, it's ok." He shook out his coat, hung it, and pulled off his boots. He didn't say any more, instead slowly walking towards the bathroom, grabbing his bag along the way.

A flash of frustration flew through me.

As the bathroom door clicked shut, I slammed my chair against the table and ran my fingers through my hair in a huff. I heard the shower start, so I knew I had a few minutes alone. I changed into my pajamas, packed the rest of my things, and gave the room a quick check to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Picking up my novel, I got into my bed, and started to read. I was tired, and I was done. I was still hurting, but I didn't have to broadcast it anymore.

My phone buzzed again, and I saw a text from Dad.

**pick me up in the morning. 8. dean knows where.**

**k. need me to drive?**

**no comment.**

**nice. have fun.**

I smiled and closed my phone just as the water turned off. The smile faded, and my heartrate quickened, as if I was preparing for a fight. _This is stupid_, I chided myself. Stop acting like he is more important than….yeah, nevermind. He _was _that important.

I hunkered down in bed, and continued to read.

Dean came out of the bathroom, hair still wet, but in warm, dry clothes. He dropped his bag to the floor and paused by my bed for barely a second before continuing to his own. I said nothing, and he didn't either.

He dropped into his bed, and turned on the TV. Somehow he managed to find yet another 80's action movie, and he settled in for the show.

He continued to be silent, and kept his eyes on the TV. He yawned a couple times, sniffed and scratched his nose.

Not that I was watching.

I was going to continue ignoring him, but then I remembered Dad's text. "Dad wants us to pick him up in the morning. Said you'd know where."

Dean grunted and smirked. "Ok, we can do that." His tone felt...softer. "What time?" _Definitely _softer...

"He said 8." I kept my eyes on my book, even though I knew Dean was watching me, trying to gauge what I was thinking. The full force of my insecurities hit me right then, and I suddenly missed Sam so very much. My eyes watered, but my resolve strengthened.

I closed my book, and rolled over so I couldn't see him..._so he couldn't see me_. I heard Dean shift in his bed and sigh. He softly said, "Night, Kate…"

I chose not to answer.

xxxxx

I was surprised that I woke before him...I figured he'd be up and giving me shit about not moving fast enough before I could roll over. I took a shower and finished getting ready to leave. Surprisingly, Dean was still in bed.

I told myself I would give him the silent treatment today. You know, just to show him.

I'm not sure what I was supposed to be showing him, though. I was already tired of the game and I'd been playing it for five whole minutes.

I shook his foot, "Hey, Dean...time to get up."

He stirred, but didn't wake. Concerned, I went to the side of his bed and touched his shoulder. "Hey, we gotta go get Dad."

Dean peeled one eyelid open and looked at me. His expression was confused, and it took him a few seconds before he realized what was going on. He rubbed his forehead and raised himself up on his elbow. "Yeah, ok, I'm up."

I took back my hand, resisting the urge to mess with his hair and said, "It's 7:30. I got everything ready to go so you could sleep a little longer." I winced inwardly - now I sound like a suckup. _Awesome_.

I turned quickly and went back to my backpack before any facial expressions betrayed the conflicting emotions inside me. I was still pissed, but more at myself than at Dean. I don't like feeling insecure and needy.

"Thanks...Gimme a few minutes and we can go."

"Yeah, ok." I kept my back to him and shoved my novel in my backpack. That was the last of my stuff. This little motel/apartment thing had been home for the last 3 weeks. Sad how everything I owned fit into a duffel bag.

I heard Dean sluggishly get out of bed, coughing as he cleared sleep from his throat, and start to get dressed. I checked my phone for...no reason other than needing something to do. I sent Sam a text.

**its over. i think. moving on. miss you.**

I didn't expect an answer….it was 3 hours earlier in California. As I shoved the phone in my pocket, it buzzed.

_Sam_.

**call me**

I looked over my shoulder at Dean, "I'll be outside."

Dean grunted in acknowledgement, continuing to pack.

I grabbed my bag and went outside. After shoving it in the back seat, I settled on the trunk of the Impala and dialed Sam's number.

"Here's a thought...have these moments when it isn't 4:30 in the morning, 'kay?"

I cringed. "I didn't think you'd answer the phone." _I just wanted to connect to someone…_

"I'm kind of trained to hear little sounds in the night." He yawned, and asked, "So what's going on? Where are you guys headed?"

"Somewhere in northern Wisconsin. I dunno - a ghost or a geist or a something-or-other we gotta kill."

Sam laughed, " Oooh...something original."

I snorted and smiled, "Yeah…"

"So…? Tell me why you're texting me at 4:30 am."

I sighed. "It's stupid. I don't know why Dean got so fucking mad. And it woulda been okay...really...but he...he really shut me out. And I just...I didn't like it. So now I feel like a fucking 12 year old whining about her big brother who was mean to her. And Dad's all 'I'll talk to him', like that would've helped anything, and I dunno maybe I'm getting my period. _Fuck_."

Sam was quiet as he contemplated my verbal diarrhea. For a second I thought he fell asleep, but then he said, "Needed a connection, huh?"

I wiped at my eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

"When did you get so insecure?"

"Two months ago."

SIlence.

"I'm sorry. That was totally unfair. I'm so proud of you for going to school and I'm so so so happy that you're there…."

"I know…"

"It's just...sometimes 6 years apart is a lot of fucking years. And at seventeen, I'm still a kid in his eyes, not a friend. It's so fucked up when there's a pocket of time when Dad and I are closer than Dean and I…"

"Guh...that's...yeah, don't say that."

I laughed a little.

"Look, maybe you two need to have it out. You know how he feels towards you...you know that even if he's pissed, those feelings aren't going to change."

"I know. But I don't need or want a second dad anymore."

"I know….just...lay low. See what he does. You're _way _better at dealing with him than I ever will be. You know that. You'll figure out what to do - just give it some time."

"Yeah….yeah, ok."

"All better? Can I go back to sleep now?"

I thought for a second, then hung up on him. Immediately, I got a text.

**haha. love you too.**

I sat for a while, thinking on what Sam said. Talk to Dean. About my feelings. About how hurt I was and how I'd like us to transition into being brother/sister rather than father/daughter.

I should also invite a wendigo over for dinner next week and get a Black Dog as a pet.

The motel door opened, and Dean walked out, carrying his stuff. I gave my eyes one last wipe and hopped off the trunk. He paused, then asked, "You mind driving? Got a headache…"

I blinked at him. He willingly admitted to having a headache? "Sure. You...uh...need something for it?"

Dean shoved his bag in the back seat and shook his head. "Nah...I'm okay. Just...need to sleep it off. Probably the aftereffects of the other night." He smiled wickedly and winked at me.

Okay...making nice...moving forward…

I laughed. "So...where's Dad?"

xxxxx

We arrived in Wisconsin that night. We still had a couple hours to go, but I was comforted by at least being in the correct state. I drove all day, and was now exhausted. Dad passed out in the backseat for almost the entire ride. Dean dozed on and off. His headache was still bothering him - whenever he wasn't sleeping he had a furrowed look on his face, like he couldn't believe it was still hurting.

He offered to drive a few times, but I knew he felt like shit, so I insisted I could keep going. Now, though, I was at the end, and I think he knew it.

"Pull over...I'll get us in the rest of the way."

I didn't argue...I couldn't.

All day, all I did was think. I thought about Sam and our talks, I thought about Dean...why he got so mad about that test, why he was such a prick, what I should do about it, how I should handle him, and on and on and on. We had pretty much returned to the way things were, but there was still a tiny bit of tension...as if the space around us knew something had to happen to get us back on track, but it wasn't the right time.

Once Dean got settled in the driver's seat, he checked the map, nodded to himself, and pulled back onto the road. Dad was still, impossibly, passed out.

I yawned and rubbed the back of my neck. "I can't believe he's still back there."

Dean huffed a laugh and said, "I can. He was in rare form these last couple of days."

I chuckled and leaned my head against the window.

We drove in silence for a bit, until Dean asked, "Whatcha thinkin'?"

I sat up and turned to him. "Hmmm….Bullshit or reality?" This is a game we play where we acknowledge that even though one asked, one may not really want the answer.

Dean stole a quick glance at me and uncertainly asked, "...Bullshit…?"

_Interesting_….

I settled back into the passenger seat and took a deep breath, "I wonder where we'll go after we're done here. I hope there's a mall nearby because I need new shoes. Preferably something with a low heel."

Dean nodded, considering what I said, trying to see what was hidden between the words. Even when we request bullshit, we usually end up hiding something important in the pile.

"Where do you want to go?"

_Bingo._

I closed my eyes. "I was thinking of going to Bobby's for a while."

No response.

I didn't really expect one.

Eventually, Dean cleared his throat and said. "Kate...if this is about -"

Cutting him off, I added, "I can take that test and then hook up with you guys." I paused. "If that's ok."

Dean looked at me quickly and said, "You can do whatever you want - "

"I know. Relax...you called bullshit, remember?" I flashed him a quick smile before closing my eyes again.

I heard his intake of breath, but nothing came afterwards so I just let my mind wander.

A groan from the backseat roused me, and I turned to see Dad struggling to sit up, eyes trying to open fully.

Dean watched him from the rear view mirror. "Well, well...nice of you to join us."

Dad shot Dean a withering look and stretched. "Where are we?"

"Just entered Wisconsin...gotta couple hours to go. How're you feeling?" I saw Dean grin at Dad, a knowing look on his face.

Dad feebly smacked him on the back of his head. "Shaddup. Grab the next exit with a bathroom and some coffee." He leaned over and mussed my hair affectionately. "How's it goin'?" he asked softly.

I smiled at him and just said, "All good." I saw Dean's eyes dart my way before returning to the road, trying to determine if I was dishing bullshit or reality.

Dad nodded with approval, "Good. I'm starving. Add food to the list when looking for an exit."

xxxxx

When Dad returned to the Impala he was reading something on his phone and drinking a huge cup of coffee. He flipped it shut as he reached the car.

"Okay, I have more specific directions for where we need to go. You guys rest, I'll drive the rest of the way." He went to the driver's side and got in.

Dean dragged a hand down his face and actually looked a little relieved. He slept most of the way here, and only drove for less than an hour, but he looked ready to fall asleep. I was a little worried...this didn't look like a hangover.

As he reached for the door handle, Dean turned and sneezed, then continued into the car.

Oh yeah...definitely not a hangover.

xxxxx

We pulled up to the motel which turned out to be a bed and breakfast. I smiled - finally, a nice place to sleep.

Dean looked at the sign incredulously. "What the hell is that?" He turned to Dad, "Is this one of those places with flowery quilts and pictures of fruit on the wall?"

Dad chuckled as he parked the car. "My buddy's cousin owns this place and is giving us a room practically for free. It's a nice place to sleep for a change, and I'm not turning it down...even if there is pink shit everywhere."

Dean mumbled something about not sleeping with lace blankets as we pulled our bags out and headed inside.

Like Dad said, the room was practically free, so there was no way we were leaving. But there was one small wrinkle in this plan.

"Whoa….one king bed?" Dean stared at Dad. "You're kidding me…"

Dad pulled at his chin and stared thoughtfully. The only other sleepable furniture was a cushioned corner chair with an ottoman. "I'll take the chair. You two share the bed." His tone made it clear that we weren't debating this, so Dean shut his mouth and tossed his bag in a corner.

"What? You've shared a bed before. What's the big deal?"

"I'm going to the bathroom." Dean disappeared into the bathroom.

When he was gone, I raised my eyebrows at Dad. Did he not remember yesterday?

Dad sighed and plopped his bag on the table. "What?"

"Nothing - it's ok. But don't be surprised if you come back and he's in the chair."

"Why?…_Oh…_right..."

"Dad...don't worry about it. We're getting a really nice place to stay, for a change. We can't pass that up. He knows. It's just a little...awkward now."

I would have said more, but Dean came back out and took off his jacket.

"You pissed with your coat on?"

He raised his eyes to mine. "I was in a hurry...and I was careful. Didn't spill, I swear."

At that, I laughed loudly, and I was happy to see his expression relax.

"My pride and joy," Dad laughed. Dean waggled his eyebrows at him, making Dad laugh even more. "Okay, okay...I'm going to meet up with my friend and get more info on this hunt. Anyone wanna go?"

I snorted. Yeah, the teenage girl is going to hang out with seasoned hunters at a bar. Nope.

"Didn't think so. Dean?"

Dean thought for a moment, and answered, "Nah...I'm good here in frilly land."

"Alright...see you later…" He lingered a moment, as if unsure whether he should leave us alone together. To help him out the door, I went over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and squeezed his arm.

"Have fun."

He smiled at me gratefully and returned the squeeze before leaving.

Once the door clicked shut, I took a deep breath. I wanted to address Dean still feeling like shit, but without pushing him away. Unless he's near passing out drunk (like yesterday) or already incredibly delirious with fever, he is firm with boundaries. He is the caretaker, and Sam and I are his caretakees.

But Sam's gone, now. It's just us and Dad...and I'm not a child anymore. Someone other than Dad (who only pays casual attention) needs to take care of him.

Dean bent to retrieve his bag so he could dig out his pajamas. As he moved, a groan escaped his lips and he rotated his shoulder, just like Dad did yesterday.

I saw my chance, and took it.

"Hey...sit down..." I opened the first aid kit and hunted for the cream I used on Dad's shoulder.

Dean was watching me like he knew where this was going. His face already closing up, and a refusal about to be voiced.

I cut him off with a look.

_I said...sit down._

He raised his eyebrows at me.

I put one hand on my hip.

_Yes?_

He weighed his options, then sat on the bed with a huff.

I shrugged out of my coat. "Take off your shirt."

After the barest of pauses, he obeyed, and sat with an uncomfortable look on his face. I squeezed some of the medicine on my hands and rubbed them together to warm them up.

"Kate...look, you don't have to...oh...uhhhh..._ok_…"

I started on his shoulder and effectively shut him up. I found a knot and worked at it for a while until it loosened up. Dean sat still, head lolling on his neck, chin on his chest. He let out a groan once in a while, but otherwise remained silent, letting me work.

"Fuck...Dean, you're all knotted up. Why didn't you say something?"

He shrugged.

_Not a big deal._

I pressed a little harder.

_It's a big deal to me._

Wordlessly, he turned to glance up at me, his expression thoughtful, then turned back around.

When I finished, he gave me a small smile, and softly said, "Thanks…"

I patted him on the shoulder. "No problem." I wiped my hands on my jeans, figuring it was about time to do laundry anyway.

Dean picked up his pajamas. "Um...why don't you get ready for bed and I'll...uh...find us a movie to watch…" He was speaking tentatively, as if afraid I'd turn him down and leave.

I nodded, "Yeah...ok...sounds good."

While I changed and washed up, Dean put on his pajamas and got into bed. He even had a movie already chosen. Framed by all the comforters and pillows, he looked...adorable. I never thought of Dean as being adorable before; the opportunity either never presented itself, or I wasn't tuned into it. It made me smile.

I turned off the lights and got under the covers. We were on opposite sides of the bed, and stayed that way for a while until Dean let out a huge yawn. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and mumbled, "C'mere…"

I looked over and he raised an arm and gestured with his head. I recalled my earlier conversation with myself...he wasn't drunk and he wasn't delirious with fever. What was this?

_Just...c'mere…_

I scooted towards him, and he looped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I complied, and let him guide my head onto his shoulder, just like when we were kids. I hadn't been like this with Dean since I started high school. It reminded me of many nights spent waiting for Dad to return from a hunt, the three of us huddled together on a crappy bed, trying to focus on some awful movie and not on every second Dad was late.

After initial awkward moments, we both unconsciously shifted so we were more comfortable. He kept my head on his shoulder, his arm casually wrapped around me. Once settled in, we both drifted to sleep.

xxxxx

_What is that?_

A Jet engine. Twin jet engines.

In bed with me.

I tried to calculate the odds of this anomaly when I realized the noise was actually Dad snoring behind me. I half rolled my head to look, and sure enough, there he was, stretched out on my other side. I stared at him, confused, not sure when or how he got there. There was plenty of space, especially since I hadn't moved from Dean's side since falling asleep. It was just a little odd.

Like anything in my life wasn't odd.

When I turned back to Dean, he was watching me.

"Hey…" I started.

"Hey…" He...croaked? Not good.

I nodded my head at Dad and asked, "So….what happened?"

Dean breathed a laugh, "I was up when he got back. There was space, so I just told him to sleep here."

That made sense.

"Why were you up?"

Dean started coughing, not loudly or forcefully, but uncomfortably, pausing afterwards to clear his throat.

_Ahh….ok..._

I studied his face. Despite all the sleep he'd gotten, he still had dark circles under his eyes. His expression was pinched, and I knew the headache from the last two days was still lingering.

I tentatively reached over and ran my fingers through his hair. Dean hesitated, then closed his eyes and sighed. I could feel a little heat coming off of him.

I whispered, "You're coming down with something."

Dean's eyes flew open and he had a guarded expression on his face. "I'll be fine."

More confident, I continued to stroke his hair and retorted, "I didn't say you wouldn't be fine. I just said that you're coming down with something."

I tilted my head and pressed my forehead against his. The warmth from his fever was faint, but definitely there. I moved my hand to the back of his neck and squeezed gently.

It only took a few moments for Dean to sigh and sag against me, almost in defeat. I thought to myself, Kate 1, Dean 0.

He whispered, "Don't tell Dad…"

His tone held a hint of panic, like I was going to rat him out and get him in trouble. Caught off-guard, it took me a second to respond. "We'll get some meds in you as soon as we get up, ok? He won't even notice."

Dean calmed down, nodding gratefully, keeping his head against mine.

xxxxx

By late afternoon, Dean still looked rundown, but he was hiding it well. He took some pills to help with the fever and the obvious aching, and I pushed him to drink a lot of water and just take it easy in general. Aside from the occasional cough, he mostly stayed quiet all morning, listening attentively, but not actively engaging.

Dad was none the wiser, being completely focused on socializing with his friend Jimmy (who apparently was in the Marines with Dad) and working out the details of the hunt.

It seemed that on a historic piece of property, the original owner's spirit was running amok. Even though the land was privately owned, locals trespassed all the time, especially teenagers looking for fun places to hang out. Problem was that some of them were now getting hurt...one of them killed last week.

Dad and Jimmy were crowded around the motel table working on the "where the fuck could the bones be" part of the plan when I suggested we get something to eat. Dean was starting to get listless, ready for another dose of Tylenol, and I wanted some food in his stomach.

"Dean and I will bring something back for you guys, ok?" I skipped asking permission and went straight for action.

Barely looking up, Dad muttered, "Perfect...see you soon. Hurry up though - we're about ready and I want to get started."

I nodded and hauled Dean out the door. "Kate...I'm not hungry.."

"I know…" I murmured as I made my way down the hallway towards the restaurant.

Dean huffed.

We arrived at the restaurant and after we were seated, I looked over the menu. Dean sat opposite me with his head in his hands. The waitress was kind, and could tell right away that he wasn't well. She brought him some soup, crackers, and hot tea. Dean looked at it impassively, and then at me.

_Seriously?_

I ignored him and ate my sandwich.

Sighing, he picked up his spoon and tried the soup. He made a face signalling that the taste was pleasant. As he swallowed, his eyes closed as the warm liquid soothed his throat, which I now knew was hurting him.

I was getting a little nervous about having him along tonight. I knew he wasn't on his deathbed, and a decent amount of medicine would keep him going a while longer. But he was intermittently shivering and sweating, and getting worse as the day went on. It was a matter of time before Dad or Jimmy noticed that he wasn't operating at 100%.

I picked at my sandwich and broached the subject. "Dean...maybe you should sit this one out and…" I glanced up and was met with a gaze that would have killed me if I hadn't flinched visibly out of the way. "Nevermind…"

He went back to eating his soup.

I ordered some burgers and brought them back to the room. Dad and Jimmy explained the plan while they ate.

Based on some old photos and town documents, they narrowed possible locations down to three inconvenient areas. Dad would take one area, Jimmy another, and Dean and I the third. We were to look for markers that could indicate a grave. Each section was a few acres and some parts were wooded or completely overrun with prairie grass.

The search could take hours, and the weather was turning foul. It was getting better and better.

Jimmy left to get his equipment ready, and Dad decided to chat with us in private while we had the chance.

"This is going to be a pain in the ass, I know that...but we don't have a choice. We have to find that grave and take care of this spirit. It's able to roam the entire span of the property, which means the potential danger to others is much greater."

"We got it, Dad. No problem. It'll suck, but we can do this." I cringed slightly at Dean's voice, which was sounding deeper and more raspy. He really needs a handful of Tylenol before we go out there.

Dad nodded and turned back to the map spread out on the table. I figured I should have sturdy footwear for this hike, so I went to change into my heavier boots. Just as I turned around, Dean sneezed, hard and fast, then widened his eyes and blinked, indicating that it took him by surprise. I paused a second, before continuing to get my boots, acting as if nothing happened.

Dad was still facing the table, so I swiped a few tissues from the nightstand and covertly handed them to Dean. He took them gratefully and wiped his nose.

"I don't like splitting up," he continued. "But I don't see how we're going to cover all this ground otherwise." He turned back to us a split second after Dean shoved the tissues into his pocket. "If your phones get soaked, we won't be able to communicate, so keep them dry if you can."

Dad narrowed his eyes at Dean as if seeing him for the first time all day. "You doing ok, bud? You still look tired."

I'm surprised Dad even noticed. It's not that he didn't care, he just tended to assume Dean was always fine. Dean took care of us, it didn't work the other way around. He worked really hard to stay off Dad's radar all day, depending on Jimmy to dominate Dad's attention. Now, though, Dad's focus was entirely on Dean, sizing him up and trying to see if everything was ok.

To me, Dean didn't look tired - he looked like complete shit. His eyes were bright, his cheeks had a faint pink glow and there was a very fine sheen of sweat on his face. I waited to see how Dean would answer Dad - if I jumped in, it would look suspicious.

Dean swallowed and ran his hand down his face. "Yeah...yeah I'm fine." He flashed Dad a smile and shrugged his shoulders, "I guess I can't handle liquor in my old age...no more shots with beer for me."

Dad almost bought it - I could see him teetering on the edge of believing Dean, so I decided to push him the rest of the way.

"You're such a fucking pansy. I bet I could drink you under the table."

Dean played along. Standing up, he put his hands in his pockets and struck a cocky pose. "Bullshit, sweetheart. "

Wow, _there _was that Dean Winchester smile that told ladies to come hither from across a smoky bar.

I opened my mouth to retort when Dad stood and gestured as if breaking up a fight. He laughed, "Ok, enough. Go get ready. I'm gonna check on Jimmy and make sure everything is good in the car. I'll be back in a bit."

As he walked out the door, he clapped Dean on the shoulder and poked me. He looked relieved that we were bantering, and I was relieved that it deflected his attention off my brother.

When the door clicked shut, Dean collapsed on the bed and rubbed his forehead. "Fuck, I owe you one."

I scoffed, "Ha. Just one? Look, you do look tired...beyond tired...like shit, actually." Dean gave me a rueful smile.

"Yeah...I feel like shit. This is gonna suck like...something...bad. Nevermind. You know what I mean."

I put my hand against his forehead. "Hmmm...During stage 3, words begin to fail you…" He was warmer than this morning.

Dean laughed, which turned into a cough, which continued into a long, drawn-out miserable hack.

"Yeah, ok...time for pills and to make sure you're warm during our moonlight hike."

He nodded, not trusting himself to talk. He perched at the edge of the bed with his hands resting on his knees, breathing heavily. I was getting more nervous about him being outside all night, but I knew better than to suggest it again, especially since he and I were partnered together for the search. He wasn't going to let me go out there alone, no matter how sick he was. My only course of action was to help him get through it, while still doing our job.

I handed him four white pills, and he took them without question, chasing them down with a glass of water. He nodded thanks and wiped his nose with the tissues from before.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Okay, if we're doing this, we're doing it smart. Put on a sweatshirt under your coat. I'll grab Kleenex and some Advil in case we're out long enough for another dose of something."

Dean chuckled.

"What?" I asked, frowning at him. "What's so funny?"

"You. All...this." He vaguely gestured at me.

I stood still, watching him struggle into one of Sam's old sweatshirts. Softly, I said, "I learned from the best, you know." He looked up at me, his arm slightly tangled in the fabric. I helped him pull the shirt down and smiled at him.

He stared at me a second before huffing a small breath. "Let's get going. The sooner we go the sooner we can get back."

xxxxx

The air was chilly - not freezing, but cold enough to see your breath. Luckily, we were moving around, not sitting and staring, so we were able to maintain some body warmth. The unlucky part had to come sooner or later, and the later was a mere thirty minutes into the search.

It began as a fine misty rain, lightly coating the grass and trees. Irritating, but not hindering, so we were able to continue moving at a decent pace. The flashlights shined through it easily, and the ground wasn't soaked enough to make it muddy.

For another thirty minutes.

Then we were screwed.

The rain picked up, and became a steady fall - not torrential, but heavy enough to completely saturate the ground and suck at our boots every single step. It also made it more difficult to see - and we found that we were missing landmarks and stumbling over roots and shrubs.

As the weather became worse, so did Dean's condition. The cold air made him cough more frequently. It was a dry, hacking cough that left him breathless. It also made his nose run, and using tissues in the rain was a sad, fruitless waste of effort, so he eventually gave up and just used his sleeves. The more his nose ran, the more he coughed. The more he coughed, the more the pressure irritated his sinuses, and he started sneezing on a semi-regular basis after the second hour.

During one such cough/sneeze fit thing, I stopped and placed my hand on his shoulder to steady him while I scanned our surroundings for any signs of shelter from the weather. There was nothing. Dean leaned on me and gasped, "Okay...this was a bad idea…"

"You think? This whole hunt was a bad idea. How the fuck are we supposed to find a fucking grave in this?"

Dean was about to answer me when the air around us became very, very cold.

_Shit…._

We raised our weapons and searched for the spirit. Our backs together, we scanned the area until Dean shouted, "There!" I swiveled and we fired in unison. There was a shriek, and then silence.

"I barely saw it through the rain. We gotta move. _Now_."

We took off at a much faster pace through the wooded landscape. We slipped and slid between the trees, pausing only to fire and dissipate the ghost as we ran. The ground became much more dangerous as the mud got thicker and the rain fell harder. Branches whipped in our faces while stones and roots reached out to grab our feet as we ran past.

Suddenly, in front of us, the spirit appeared, arms outstretched, emitting an ear-splitting wail. Dean slid to a stop, losing his balance in the process and fell in the mud. I was able to raise my shotgun and get one round into it before Dean yelped and the ground gave way under us.

xxxxx

Rain was pelting against my face. I wanted to wipe it away, but my left shoulder was on fire and I couldn't move that arm. I wasn't sure where my right arm was, which could end up a problem sooner or later. I became aware of Dean's voice calling to me, and I tried like hell to focus and get it together.

I opened my eyes and saw a very fuzzy outline of Dean staring anxiously at me. His mouth was moving. "...me? Wake up...c'mon, don't do this…"

"Mmm...'kay...m'fine…"

"Thank God….get your eyes open...come on…" His hand was brushing against my cheek and I kept blinking and trying to focus on his voice to help me wake up.

"There you go...hey…." As I regained consciousness, I realized Dean's hands were shaking and his voice unsteady.

I tried to push myself up, but ended up crying out sharply as the pain my shoulder flared up.

"_Whoa_...Kate…? What hurts...shoulder?"

I barely nodded, "Yeah...fuck...it's out…"

Dean wiped the rain off his face. "Ok...ok we can fix that. Um…_fuck_, this will hurt...we're not exactly on flat ground, here." As I processed his words, I realized I was laying on a bed of rocks and lumps of dirt. There were roots poking my back as well. I couldn't sit up - so he'd have to pop my shoulder back in while I was lying on all this shit.

Fantastic.

"..s'ok...jus...do it...can't...ugh…" Tears were spilling down my face. I couldn't stop them - it just hurt so fucking much.

"Ok..._fuckfuckfuck_...ok…" He drew a trembling breath. "On three, kiddo…."

We counted together, and on three, he wrenched and I almost screamed. He fell back afterwards, breathing heavily, and I realized two things.

First, the pain was better, but not nearly as good as it should have been. That meant something else was wrong with my shoulder.

Second, I knew Dean was hurt - popping in a shoulder shouldn't leave one breathless.

_Fuckfuckfuck _is right.

"Dean…" I was gasping between almost every word. "Problem...not fixed...mmmmph…" I was trying every breathing exercise I could think of to help manage the pain.

They were mostly not working.

Dean didn't move. "Gimme a sec...we'll figure it out. I -" He interrupted himself with a fit of coughing, punctuated by moans of pain.

"_Christ_...you ok?"

He gasped, "I'm ok...just...bad timing...let me see your shoulder…" He pushed himself back up and leaned towards me. While he examined my shoulder, I studied him.

Blood was trickling from a cut on his temple, blending with the rain and painting bright red marks down the side of his face. They stood out against the stark whiteness of his skin. His eyes looked a little glassy, telling me that his fever was rising. But there was something else...

"Shoulder's in, Kate...I don't know…" He barely applied pressure to an area just to the side of the joint and I hissed in pain, squeezing my eyes closed as more tears escaped down my face. "_Whoa_...okokok...I...I dunno what's going on in there. But your arm's out of commission right now." He wiped his face again, thinking of what we should do. He shuffled a bit, and grimaced.

I studied him, and realized what seemed off. He was leaning at an odd angle, and I wondered why he would do that instead of just sitting up more or moving closer, until it hit me.

"Dean...your legs…"

He looked like he was just caught stealing something. "I'm fine, Kate. Worry about you."

I scoffed, "Bullshit - you telling me not to worry doesn't make me not worry." I spoke in a rush. "We're in this together...don't lie to me...not now."

He let his gaze stray back to my face. Our eyes locked, and I could see him weighing his options. "My hip...I think...landing on the rocks... I don't think it's broken, but it hurts like a bitch and...I can't move my leg."

_Fuck_.

Dean pressed back against the wall and we both lay still for a moment I closed my eyes, feeling the rain against my skin.

"How's your cold...?"

He sneezed his reply. Twice.

_Double fuck._

I groped with my good hand and found the handle of the flashlight. I nudged it towards Dean and he noticed it just as it brushed his hand. Grasping it, he turned it on and shined it around our new home.

It seemed that we were in some sort of...well...pit. I'm guessing it was a half-finished project that just ended being buried. The sides went straight up, and were slick with mud. At various points, tree roots and rocks jutted out from the dirt. I could see marks in the mud indicating that we must have half slid half fell our way down to the bottom of this thing. I'm guessing the ground gave way under us, like a sinkhole.

The floor was littered with sharp rocks and mud, interspersed with roots and stalks from various plants.

I could see several underneath Dean, and if that's what he landed on…

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. We were screwed.

"_Holy shit_…." Dean laughed weakly.

I opened my eyes and looked at him questioningly, "What?"

He nodded towards the far side of the pit, and I could see the source of his amusement. An old skeleton was illuminated by the weak spotlight, its skull grinning at us, welcoming us to its home.

The backpack was on its lap. "The fucker has our salt."

I joined in the laughter, which abruptly halted with Dean coughing and me gasping in pain.

"Ok...push me up. I can't...sit up ...on my own."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Someone has to get the salt...we have to burn it..._fuck…_"

Grunting, Dean leaned over and placed a hand under me. "Okay...deep breath….up we go…"

He pushed as best as he could, and I clenched my muscles and struggled to a sitting position. We needed a minute to recover - something so simple was wiping us out.

"Ok Kate...it's not far...you can do this. Just...try…"

"Yeah….yeah ok…"

Standing was out of the question, so instead I managed to scoot on my ass over to the bones. My good arm helped push me, my bad arm was cradled across my chest. I could feel Dean's eyes on me, willing me forward.

Finally, I was able to grab a strap from the bag and feebly fling it behind me to Dean. "Good job, kiddo...hold on a sec...lemme get out the salt and lighter fluid…"

I heard him rummage through the bag, getting out the supplies. I couldn't answer him. I was trying to get the pain under control. I was getting used to it, making it more manageable. That wasn't exactly comforting, but I'll take what I can get.

"Ok...I'm gonna...toss these to you. Salt and soak it, Kate…"

I half turned to him. _The rain…._

"I know...the rain is a problem. This is the best we can do, though."

I nodded, and gathered up the supplies he rolled/threw over. After several agonizing minutes, I was able to douse the body with salt and lighter fluid, and scoot my way back to safety. Dean's arm was on my back as soon as I was close enough, guiding me next to him. I collapsed against the wall, unable to move anymore. He lay his head against mine, "Perfect...that was great...let's light the sonofabitch."

He flicked his lighter, waited until the flame was solid, and tossed it across the room. As the bones caught fire, it occurred to us that the pit wasn't exactly huge. We had a few feet between us and the bones, but the fire was kind of close. Hopefully the rain would douse it soon after the spirit was gone.

We heard a shriek above us and we tensed, waiting for the next disaster to strike. There was a sound like paper shredding, a flash of light, then nothing. We released our breath in unison and leaned our heads back against each other.

"Fire's warm…" I mumbled.

"Heh...yeah. Warm is good." Dean wiped his nose on his sleeve and coughed.

"Fuck...Dean…" I shifted until our foreheads were touching. "You're burning up…have to get you out..."

Dean chuckled, his laugh thick with congestion. "Like my cold is the least of our worries. I'm fine. I want to know what's going on with your shoulder. You're barely dealing with the pain - something's really wrong." He shifted, then winced sharply.

"Ha...you're fucked up, too. We're _both_ a mess..._both_ need to get out..." I paused to catch my breath as the rain put the fire out.

And there goes the warmth.

"Okay...your hip on these rocks...that's bad. We're gonna move." Dean snorted. "Hey….trust me, 'kay? Have an idea…"

"I don't want you to move."

"Dean...you're shaking and burning up...not to mention whatever else you're hiding. I can sit...bear your weight...warm you a little. You...with the arms...get in the backpack...find something...try to get Dad…"

Talking tired me out and I closed my eyes. Dean's forehead was back against mine. We stayed like that a minute, breathing heavily, cold water covering us like a blanket.

"Okay...okay...how…?"

"Hold on…"

It took a long time and a lot of swearing and groaning and gasping in pain, but we managed to get situated. I sat against the mud wall, in a spot without roots and rocks. Dean sat between my legs, practically on my lap, so I could cushion his hip. He angled himself to avoid my shoulder, and leaned back against me, the backpack open in his lap.

I could tell this eased his pain. His breathing was a little easier. My body warmth, well, what there was of it, helped too. His shivering wasn't as violent, rather an occasional shudder, although his teeth still chattered and his fever now raged. He leaned against me, his nose cold against my neck.

"Phone…?"

He shook his head.

"Can't find it. I checked your pockets while you were out - can't find yours either." Neither of us volunteered to crawl around and look for them, so we just counted them lost. He peered inside the backpack. "Nothing in here that will help, unless we need to...stab or shoot something…"

"Heh..okay...well...crap. Wait...pills..."

Dean fumbled in the pack until he produced the bottle of Advil. After a few attempts, he got the bottle open, and we both swallowed a few pills each.

"There...did something...hope Dad finds us…soon..."

"Yeah, well, this well wasn't on any of those maps...so… _*sigh*_ He'll find us. I just don't know when."

I barely nodded as I readjusted my good arm around Dean's now trembling body. He stilled a moment, before a sneeze ripped from him, vaulting him forward. He gasped as pain shot through his leg. "_Fuck…_."

If I weren't so out of it, I would be panicking. Luckily, I was distracted by a shoulder on fire and a sick and hurting big brother.

Dean settled back against me, sniffling and wiping his nose. "Okay...so not how I wanted this to go…"

I wiped rain out of my eyes and pulled his collar up higher. I could only breathe and pitifully rub his arm.

After several moments of silence, Dean raised his head a little, "Hey...bullshit or reality?" His voice raspy and lower than normal.

I huffed a laugh. "Reality. Can't...bullshit…"

"Gotcha...okay…" He turned his face into my neck and murmured, "When were you thinking of going to Bobby's?"

_And leaving me…_

"For that test…? I dunno...hafta check...why?"

_I'm not leaving you…it's a fucking test..._

He shrugged. "Jus'...I dunno. Will be weird...you gone."

_I'll miss you._

I blinked. "I used to be at Bobby's all the time...why weird now?"

He took a deep breath and shrugged. "Don't know if you'll come back."

"Dean...you're not making sense. You were so mad over ...that test. Now you're worried….I won't come back. What is this?"

He sighed and sniffed. "Sam's out. I can't believe it, but we got him out. No one gets out. Fuck...Stanford? I'm so fucking proud of him. ..._goddammit_ -" He winced in pain, then continued. "...I miss him. I want you out, too. I don't want this to be your life. But…"

_Then I'll be alone._

I pulled Dean closer to me and just held him for a while, trying to figure out how to respond. Our relationship was changing for the better, literally right now, and I didn't want to jeopardize that.

"Listen carefully...can't...say this more than once...I don't wanna be... like Annie…" I leaned closer to Dean's ear and whispered hoarsely, "teaching all young male hunters the ways of the world…" He laugh-choked. "I have no game plan. Just you guys. G.E.D., diploma, whatever...it's the same. 's good….but not my future, not now. You, Sam, Bobby, Dad are priorities...and _fuck_, maybe always. I like my priorities. _And I'm not leaving them behind_."

Dean let out a breath, but stayed silent. Despite gasping for breath after every few words, I think I got my point across. Now I had to go for broke...

"You know….almost went with Sam." Dean stiffened, so I shook him a little. "_Almost_, asshole. Talked about it. In the end, it was the wrong choice. We knew that if I left...who'd watch you? We couldn't, wouldn't, leave you...alone. Not an option."

Dean began shaking again, from the cold, his fever, or his anxiety I couldn't be sure. Probably a cocktail mix of all three.

I kept going. "Have to let me in...have to let me be there. Don't need another dad...want a brother, need a friend." I caught my breath. "Okay...speech done..._fuck…_"

His shaking slowed. I could feel the heat of his fever against my skin as he thought over everything I said. He reached up and gripped the hand on my good arm. I squeezed back, and we shared the space, in the rain, waiting for Dad.

xxxxx

It took another two hours for Dad to find us. I passed out, but somehow Dean stayed conscious, alert for any sign of our rescue. In addition to the dislocated shoulder, I managed to rip the muscles and tendons along with bruising the actual joint. Thank God it wasn't my shooting arm.

Dean's hip wasn't broken, but it was severely bruised. Some nerves got pinched in the fall, which explains why he couldn't feel or move his leg. His cold blossomed into a case of pneumonia, which got treated and was now on the mend.

As soon as we were out of the hospital, Dad brought us to Bobby's, insisting on an extended rest period to heal up.

My arm was in a sling, and I was given a whole big bottle of pain medication after I got out of surgery. Dean had a nice limp, and was told to use a cane to help him stay mobile. After the hundredth old man/third leg joke, he threw the cane out the Impala's window somewhere in Illinois.

I suspected this extended visit at Bobby's didn't include Dad. Sure enough, as soon as we were settled in South Dakota, Dad took off to meet Jimmy for another hunt. He just couldn't sit still, and as long as he knew we were okay, he could go back on the road.

I didn't mind. As much as I love Dad, it was hell to have both him and Bobby try to parent at the same time, so I was relieved to know he was leaving.

The second week we were there, I started sitting on the porch swing in the evenings. The air was cool and pleasant, and reminded me of being a little girl, waiting for the Impala to pull back into the driveway.

I spoke to Sam a few days ago, waiting until I was more coherent and better able to fend off the outrage and worry he would shove through the phone. He insisted I come visit since I wasn't going to be helpful on hunts for a while. I actually considered that option - I wanted to see him. I needed to make sure Dean was okay before doing anything, but maybe afterwards...

Since Dean decided his injury wasn't as severe ("Ripped...Kate...you _ripped_. I only bruised...so fuck off"), he focused all his energy on me. He was constantly at my side, making sure I had pain meds if I so much as grimaced, helping me when I couldn't manage with just one arm.

But there was a difference now.

Even though he hovered over me, he let me occasionally check his forehead for signs of a returning fever. I could rub his back or chest at night when he had trouble breathing, and just plain be concerned without fear of being pushed away.

There was a new rhythm to us, and it felt right.

The front door creaked as Dean pushed his way onto the porch. He sat next to me, his weight shifting the swing back and forth. Quietly, he held up his arm and I slid into his side, resting my head on his chest.

He hummed, rocking gently, hand on my head. I closed my eyes.

_So...being your brother is good enough? _

I snuggled closer.

He nodded.

I could hear faint rattling when he breathed, a leftover from the pneumonia. I reached up and rubbed his chest, trying to ease his discomfort. He slid lower on the swing so I could reach him easier and apply more pressure.

_So...being your sister is okay?_

He tightened his grip, pulling me closer.

I nodded.

==End==

**A/N 2: Annie is the older female hunter from Season 7, episode 19. Sam, Dean, and Bobby learn that she slept with all three of them, making them think they were special to her. I would bet she even slept with John...**


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